Shine On Me
by Weekid
Summary: Strangeness, A Crack In The Wall and a jealous Ron.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Rowlings. No money made.

Shine On Me

By Weekid

Prologue

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_There's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.  
- Leonard Cohen_

January 1996

She tightened her arms around herself. Her lips were pressed together so tight, that they resembled a light pink line on her pale face. Even her eyes glinted with anger, as she looked at the young man – boy, who stood next to her. How dare he say that about Professor Snape!

"Don't you even dare to think that! He might be a Royal Bastard, but he does work for the … " Hermione paused, looked around and continued in a whisper, just in case, "Order of the Phoenix." She said, her voice barely audible above the wind's cries. Ignoring Ron's exasperated sigh, she concentrated on blowing smoke -, or should I rather say water- vapour-rings in the sub-zero temperature.

"He sure does make a convincing Greasy Overgrown Git of a Death Eater." Ron replied, obviously still quite vexed. "I just wonder, how much of it is an act. I would wet my pants with joy if I ever found out that he does work for Vol – Vol – He Who Must Not Be Named."

A low chuckle was emitted from Hermione's throat.

"Ron, darling. That shade of red simply does not go with your hair! How many times have I told you that red cheeks are not very flattering on one with red hair" She smirked at him. "Back to the subject, it's VOLDEMORT, Ron! When will you ever learn to say it? Remember – fear of the name increases the power he has over you!"

Only an uncomfortable silence greeted her this time. Ron had stopped shivering at the mention of His name, but he did not feel comfortable, all the same. The threat was still hanging over their heads, each day, each night. The Dark Lord was still in power, growing stronger every second.

She blew a lock of brown bushy hair from her face and sighed. "Can't we go inside already? Harry's been up there for ages. I don't see the point in US freezing down here while HE has all the fun. And remind me again, why are we talking about Snape of all things?"

"Good point!" 

Ron raced to the broom shed muttering under his breath, curses, no doubt. Irony was clearly lost on the poor boy. Thankfully for Hermione, she had learnt how to subtly exploit Ron's irrational jealousy of Harry. Thankfully for him, he had finally found the a way to cope with, and recognise one of his best friends famous 'moods', and knew when to leave her alone.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets in a vain attempt to keep them sheltered from the biting frost and wind and started to walk away from the Quidditch pitch. Her thoughts once again turned to herself. She had always been good at school, but now she was no longer sure that it was completely due to her obsessive-compulsive thirst for knowledge, not to mention the fact that she had devoured practically the whole library, including over half of the restricted section, accompanied by Harry's invisibility cloak.

Lately, she had startled not only herself, but also her professors, by knowing answers to questions she wasn't even supposed to be aware existed. It was almost like having fragments of hazy memories, or dreams, of another person's life twirling and mixing with her own. Blaming it on her constantly over-active imagination, she tried to shove the strange thoughts out of her mind. 

"Poppycock!" She said, as she kicked a stone. "Utter nonsense. Get a grip Granger."

As she neared the school, she found herself being drawn towards a small crack in the wall a couple of feet away from the main doors. Strange, she thought, how I have never noticed that particular flaw yet. Hermione inched towards the dark line at the base of the stairway, carefully hidden from the prying eye.

Her fingers were tingling with excitement, and she felt her stomach tighten with anticipation as she squeezed her lithe frame between the large stones the caste of Hogwarts was made from. Slowly she was getting closer to her goal. The heat was getting more intense by the minute.

It was summoning her.

Her heart was beating so hard, she feared someone would come out of the school to investigate. There's nothing wrong in this, she thought to herself, I just want to get – closer – to that – that - .. Her vision was defiled with small black spots, dizziness making her small body tremble. Hands shaking, she reached the final inches to touch the slit deep in the wall.

Ecstasy poured over her, filling each cell with the floating feeling of wellbeing. Images filled her mind, so fast that she could not keep up with them. Tremors wracked her body. Not only could she now Remember everything, she could also Feel. Emotions so strong, she could not comprehend them completely. His graceful hands on her sweat licked hips. A sharp pain in her head.

Finally, after a seemingly timeless period, exhaustion took over her. "Ve – Verus", she managed to croak before succumbing to oblivion.

  



	2. Chapter One

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Shine On Me

Chapter 1

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Flood of warm jimjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in music out, in desire, dark to lick flow, invading. Tipping her tepping her tapping her topping her. Tup. Pores to dilate dilating. Tup. The joy the feel the arm the. Tup. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. Flood, gush, joygush, tupthrop. Now! Language of love. 

- . . . ray of hope . . . '

"What a load of crap. "

Hermione slammed the book shut and slowly got on her feet. It was the summer now, the perfect time to catch up on all the reading she was forced to neglect during the school year. Unfortunately, she was already halfway through this 'classic', as some people call it, and could not see the point in reading any further. She Never left the pages of a book unturned. Perhaps she was just not a part of the two percent minority that saw the finesse of James Joyce's work.

This upset her.

She picked up a pencil from the table and fixed her hair up in a loose bun. She licked her parched lips, the harshness of the feel reminded her of the reason she got distracted in the first place. The kitchen was not far away, and that was to be her next destination, if the rumbling in her stomach had any say in Hermione's actions.

Her long green skirt clung to her legs as she moved, reminding her of the robes she was accustomed to wearing. She longed to get back to the Wizard World. Over the course of the last six years she had spent in Hogwarts, she had slowly grown apart from the Muggle world. There were still times when she automatically jumped to do things the Muggle way, without even considering the alternatives.

It was two weeks since her parents had left to the Canary Islands. She had stayed home, claiming to have 'things to do'. In reality she just wanted time for herself. The house was still clean, naturally. Only it was a tad bit too clean. The only items left in the refrigerator were the light, a potato and a few pieces of stale bread. Reading a good book tended to get her so preoccupied, that eating, let alone buying food, was the last thing on her mind.

Just as she was about to boil the potato, she heard a soft tapping noise on the kitchen window. Looking up, she spotted a small grey owl. She opened the window and let it in. There were owl treats in the cupboard under the sink, but by the time she had turned back to offer them to the owl, it was nowhere in sight. The owl had left only a small scroll with a wax seal and a few spots of water in its wake.

She was not expecting any letters. With shaking hands, she opened the seal which had a large ornate letter 'D' on it, and unrolled the scroll.

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Dearest Hermione,

I feel it is my duty to inform you, that you were not awarded the Head Girl status. True as it is that you scored very near the highest points in history in your OWLs, surpassing even our resident Potions Master, it is also true that you were among the people who received the most detentions last year. The nature of these repeated insolent actions has caused the staff much grief. The only reason we have let you stay, is that it is a rare and precious gift to have such a wonderful mind, a mind such as yours. It would almost be a sin to leave it be untrained.

Also, we have been happy to note, that there have been no outward signs of these nocturnal excursions. Were it possible, I would say that your grade point average has ameliorated

We have, however, agreed, that due to the fact that all of those detentions were for the same reason, being caught in the Restricted Section that you will be given a pass to said Section.

Her breath hitched, now she just might be able to carry out proper research. She quickly scanned her long letter for anything else on the issue. She could have kissed him. Until she saw the ominous line halfway down the parchment.

__

This offer will be valid only once you have completed all the obligatory courses needed to pass the NEWTs. Until then, you will be under strict orders not to leave the dormitory after dinner.

She was seething. They all knew perfectly well that she could have passed the stupid NEWTs more than half a year ago. Not with top marks, but passed them none the less. Manipulative old bastard, she thought, not for the first time. He must be up to something. She could almost see that infuriating twinkle in her minds eye.

How dare they.

She was already starting to feel guilty about calling the NEWTs stupid.

* * * * * * *

Lighting fire to an important letter is never a good idea, especially if one has not read the letter first. Hermione was beginning to doubt her sanity. She was not the kind of person to lose her temper. She was the voice of cool reason, the person who prevents others from committing rash actions. Yet here she was, trying to _Reparo_ a pile of ash into the letter she had just disintegrated

Without a wand.

The first time se had felt that familiar rush of magic tickling her fingertips, she had panicked, landing on her behind, while trying to run and sit at the same time. She had not read about wandless magic, but it could not be impossible. After all, wasn't that what all children performed, before they went to a Wizarding School?

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"Reparo!" Hermione was kneeling on the floor, with soot on her nose, pointing at the small pile of grey ash. She did not know how long she had been trying to fix the letter. Perhaps she was not concentrating enough. Her own personal code of honour did not permit the easy way out. She would not, under any circumstances, write to Dumbledore and beg of him for a summary of what he had just sent. She would not. Stubborn, some would call her, but no. Hermione Granger called it 'a set of principles'.

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"Reparo!" A faint spark rushed from her hands_. "Reparo!"_ she shouted, again. No such luck. The pile did not move. It was just simply sitting there. Were it alive, it would no doubt be smirking.

Suddenly, she heard a soft cough from behind her. Almost expecting the infamous Dolores 'hem hem' Umbridge, she stood up slowly and turned. And let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding in.

"What are you ..? I mean, good day Headmaster. You scared me." Sure enough, there it was, the damn twinkling

"I did? Oh my. I did write to you that I would be popping by today, didn't I" He was smiling. Far too benignly to be up to anything good. She knew that look, and had come to fear it. "Lemon drop?"

Ooh, the nerve! He _knew_. He knew and that I had not read the letter. "Why of course, thank you. Unfortunately I did not get very far in it. You see, " Hermione fought to sound convincing, "halfway through reading it, I had a small accident. The letter is, well, there." She said, pointing to the small pile of ash.

"Ah, yes. I see. I was afraid something like this might happen." Spontaneous combustion my arse, she thought. He knows. And I'm not liking this one bit.

Hermione's common sense made itself known. "Pardon my manners, Sir. Here, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" No matter how angry, she would not let her feelings interfere with the basic etiquette. It was simply not a possibility.

He sat down and conjured two cups of hot chocolate. "Hermione, please tell me, how has your summer been?"

"Sir, if I may speak boldly," she continued at his encouraging gesture, "is something wrong? This cannot be just a social call. Logically thinking, a Headmaster does not normally come and visit his students 

homes, nor send them letters when they do NOT become Head Girl or Boy. It does not seem like the normal procedure."

"Right you are, once again. But I assure you, nothing is wrong. Merely different."

She waited for him to elaborate, but as usual, he did not. He merely sat there, his eyes twinkling like a pair of very bright, very annoying stars. "If nothings wrong, would I assume correctly that something good has happened?"

"I assume, that you would like to take advantage of the offer I made on the first half of the letter as soon as possible."

"Meaning the pass to the restricted section?" Again that maddening smile.

"You never did tell us why you were there so often. I doubt that anything but a dose of Veritaserum would open your mouth regarding the issue." He looked troubled for a moment, as though recollecting the troubled atmosphere of last year. 

All those interrogations in his office. Always the same questions. What is wrong? Has something happened? You know you can trust us. Why do you keep going back with an expulsion threat hanging over your head? The worried looks were all but driving her insane, as the teachers kept an eye on her through meals as well as classes. But she never breathed a word. How could she if she did not know what she was looking for? As a wise person once said, 'assuming' makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'.

His expression suddenly brightened, and he continued as if nothing had happened. "If I recall correctly, you were to have passed the NEWTs first. I took the liberty of owling the Ministry in order to hasten the process for you. You now have the approval of the Ministry to take the test at any time you would like to."

"Oh, I would love that!"

"Perfect. So, how would October sound? I realise it's soon, but I do have the utmost confidence in your abilities."

"But I haven't even completed the whole curriculum ... "

"Now now, don't you worry about that. How about your own private classes, in addition to coming to school earlier. Preferably in a few days. That way there would be almost a whole month of time for you to study beforehand, not the mention the fact that in Hogwarts, you are allowed to use magic, even during the summer. I am sure that there would be a way to arrange for some additional time, if needed." He stressed the word 'additional' strangely.

Twinkle.

She could not even speak. Her mouth was open in an expression of silent awe, as she regarded the Headmaster. She was getting surer by the minute, that Albus Dumbledore could read minds. He knew exactly which buttons to push. "Just one more question. If my classes were to be private, who would be my tutor? I mean, surely the other teachers have their own classes."

"Why, Severus of course."

The cup of hot chocolate she was holding splashed onto her feet, the delicate porcelain breaking into hundreds of tiny, and very sharp slivers. Severus Snape had disappeared almost half a year ago, only days before the strange incident with the crack in the wall. The incident which she still could not explain, also the primary reason for her slaving away in the Restricted Section each night. She cut her foot on one of the slivers.

The pot, with a single potato immersed in water, lay forgotten on the stove.

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A/N: Quote in beginning from James Joyce's ''Ulysses''


End file.
